She reached her room, closed the door behind her and collapsed against it. Good Lord, what was she going to do? She and Derek had agreed from the beginning that they would each pay their own expenses. The only money she had at the moment was what Martin had given her for telegraphs, and that would not last. At least as long as they remained in Paris, she did not have to pay for a hotel room. But when they left...she shuddered at the thought. She could not under any circumstances take money from Derek. That would be the same as taking it from ladies like Heloise herself.
She pushed away from the door and paced the room. There were few options. She could use what little money she had to return to England and abandon her search for Heloise—praying her cousin would at some point realize she had failed in her correspondence and write to her. Of course, that was assuming Heloise was indeed fine. It was also dependent upon prayer, and India was not confident in divine intervention. Surely God had other things to concern himself with than lost cousins and lost luggage. Besides, he’d never seemed to listen to her before.
No, the only real choice was to stretch what little she had and—should it be absolutely necessary—wire Martin for funds. He wouldn’t be at all averse to assisting her, but she hated the very thought of admitting her stupidity and asking for rescue. She was not a helpless female and did not want to be seen as one. Nor did she wish to be further indebted to Martin. She was already in his debt for her employment. She would send a final telegram, make up some sort of excuse as to why she wouldn’t be telegraphing him further and then make that money last as long as possible. And she would repay him every bit of it when she returned home.
A knock sounded at her door.
“Yes?”
The door opened, and Estelle poked her head in. “My dear girl, are you all right? Everyone is worried about you.”
“That’s very kind of you.” India forced a smile. “But you needn’t worry, I’m fine.”
“Oh, well, then, I’ll leave you be.” Disappointment flickered through the older woman’s eyes, and she turned to go. It really was quite nice of her—of all of them really—to worry about her. Especially given that she might not be the most congenial traveling companion.
“Don’t go,” India said without thinking. “That wasn’t entirely true.”
“Oh?”
“I’m not the least bit fine, I’m afraid.” India brushed an annoying tendril of hair away from her face. “Please, come in.”
“Of course.” Estelle’s face brightened, and she fairly bounced into the room. “You poor child. What can I do to help?”
“I don’t know.” India indicated an upholstered chair. “Do sit down.” Estelle settled in the chair and waited expectantly. India resumed pacing. “I’ve never not known what to do, at least not as far as I can remember. My life is usually well ordered and controlled. Things are not generally out of my hands.”
“This is an awkward situation.” Sympathy sounded in Estelle’s voice. “Although we are in Paris, so it’s not as bad as it could be.”
India paused in midstep. “I don’t see how it could be worse.”
“Nonsense. This is the fashion capital of the world, you know. I can’t imagine anything more fun than replenishing one’s wardrobe in Paris, even if one has limited means. It’s an opportunity that does not often come along, at least for most of us. And you have the perfect excuse.”
India stared. “I hadn’t even thought about clothes.”
“Well, you simply can’t continue to wear the same thing day after day.” Estelle’s gaze traveled over the gray dress from bodice to hem and back. “It’s beginning to look a bit—” she winced “—sad.”
“It is being cleaned every night.”
“Clean is one thing, dear. Worn is something else altogether.”
India glanced down at the dependable garment. “I think it’s holding up well.”
“Come now, India.” Estelle’s tone was gentle, as if she were trying to make a small child see reason. “Do you really?”
“Yes,” she said staunchly. “I do.”
Estelle’s brow arched upward.
“I’ve never been particularly concerned with fashion.”
“I’ve noticed, dear.”
“I prefer to choose my clothes for practical reasons—appropriateness and reliability, that sort of thing.”
“Not for appearance then?”
“No.” India shrugged.
“Never?”
“I’ve never seen the need.”
“I see.” Estelle considered her thoughtfully. “Have you never put on a new gown or a dress and enjoyed how it not only made you look but how it made you feel?”
“No.” India had never even considered such a thing.
“Goodness, even I have that experience very nearly every time I don a new frock. Admittedly, it’s been some time since the view in the mirror was as fetching as it once was...” A wistful smile curved Estelle’s lips. “But enough of that. It’s past time you had that same experience, too. Come along, India.” She rose to her feet. “We have shopping to do.”
“I can’t.”
“Of course you can.” Estelle waved off India’s objection. “As we shall certainly be here for some time, we shall order you some new clothes at once. Until then, there are a few shops here where clothes are sold ready-to-wear. I have already, out of mild curiosity, stopped at a few, and their charges are quite reasonable. Purchasing ready-made clothing is not something I would normally endorse, you understand, but necessity dictates a modicum of sacrifice. Although the purchase of Paris fashions, even those not made to order, is scarcely—”
“I can’t purchase any clothes.” India’s voice rose.
“Not only can you but you must,” Estelle said firmly.
“No, you don’t understand—I can’t.” India drew a deep breath. “Most of my money is hidden in my trunk.”
Estelle’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened.
“Is there a Lady Travelers Society pamphlet for that?” The panic India had thought laid to rest threatened to return in full force.
“I don’t know.” Estelle stared. “But there certainly should be a pamphlet. ‘What to Do When One Is in a Foreign Country with No Money.’ I shall suggest it when we return.” She hesitated. “But I suspect the first thing it might say is don’t put your money in luggage that could go astray.”
“Yes, well, that would be good advice.” India continued to pace. “I realize it sounds, oh, unwise—”
Estelle snorted, then coughed.
“But it did seem like such a clever idea at the time.” Still, what had she been thinking? Why, she’d been so caught up in worry about Heloise and preparing for a trip she’d never previously considered, with a man she didn’t trust, and Martin was going on and on about rogues and gypsies, and obviously she wasn’t thinking at all. India prided herself on her intelligence but, apparently, when one’s intellect failed, it did so in a spectacular manner. “I see now it was a stupid mistake. Why, if anyone else had done something this absurd—”
“You’d call them an idiot.” Estelle nodded. “And in no uncertain terms, I’d wager.”
India stared at the older woman. She’d never worried about what other people thought of her; it simply wasn’t important. She lived her life as she pleased. Of course, she’d never had a season, never been officially out in society, never even been to a ball. And never particularly cared about what she considered foolish nonsense. Was it even remotely possible that all those things she’d never done—never wanted to do—had made her into the kind of shrew who was so unyielding she couldn’t forgive fault in other people? Who saw nothing wrong in pointing out the flaws of others? Who spoke her mind regardless of what insult she might cause? Who belittled a man’s sincere desire not to disappoint?
Estelle was right. India would be the first to call someone who had made as ridiculous a mistake as she had an idiot. That was exactly what she would do. And she’d do so with a great deal of disdain and superiority.
“You’re right.” India sank down on the bed. “I probably would. How terribly...awful of me.”
“I’m not sure awful is the right word,” Estelle said.
India shot her a skeptical look.
“Although I suspect it’s fairly close. However...” Estelle adopted a no-nonsense attitude. “One cannot change if one doesn’t recognize there’s a problem, dear. You are an intelligent, outspoken, independent woman, and I see nothing wrong with that.” She smiled. “But you might consider accepting that the rest of us are flawed, mortal creatures who might not live up to your standards of perfection.”
India nodded slowly. “I could consider that.”
“And that’s all we can hope for. Now then, there’s little I can do about your finances, although I’m sure I can scrape together a bit of a loan. For now...” Estelle studied her closely. “Stand up for a moment so that I may get a good look at you.”
“Why?” India asked but stood nonetheless.
“Turn around please.” Estelle twirled her finger. “Slowly.”
“All right but why am I doing this?”
“So I can best determine which of the articles of clothing I brought with me would be suitable for you.”
“Oh, I couldn’t—”
“But you will. I insist, and I will not take no for an answer.” Estelle stood and circled India. “My things will need a few alterations here and there but nothing significant I wouldn’t think. We are of a similar height and while our bosoms are comparable, I’m afraid the rest of me is a bit more curved than you are.”
Stout was a more appropriate word. India cringed to herself. If she was to be less judgmental and, well, nicer, she needed to start now. If Estelle wanted to call herself curved, then curved she should be.
“I’m not unskilled with a needle and thread myself, but I would imagine one of the maids here is probably more adept than I am.” Estelle’s brow furrowed with thought. “I brought far more than I can possibly ever wear, but one never knows what one might encounter when traveling.”
“Is that advice from a Lady Travelers Society pamphlet?”
“Yes, I believe it is,” Estelle said absently, gathering some of the gray wool between her fingers and pulling it tighter. “You’re not quite as plump as I thought you were. It’s simply that your clothes are a bit ill fitting.”
“They are quite comfortable.”
“I imagine they are,” the older woman murmured. “I have several things that will do for you. At least one will take no more than a stitch here and there. I’ll fetch it at once and find a maid, as well.”
“Thank you, Estelle.” Wearing Estelle’s clothes would not have been her choice, but the offer was very kind. And the older woman was right—the gray wool was looking tired. While India was only of moderate means and had never given a second thought to fashion, she did prefer to look neat and precise.
Estelle turned to go.
“One more thing.” India hesitated. “I would appreciate it if you would not mention my financial difficulty to Mr. Saunders.”
“I think he will notice eventually.”
“Not if I’m careful. And not if we do indeed find my cousin soon, which we will surely do as we have only twenty or so more Grand Hotels at which to inquire.” Although it did seem rather a lot. She refused to consider their next step if Heloise was not at a Grand Hotel. If the word grand in her letter was nothing more than a description. Would they then have to inquire at every hotel with a grand appearance? And what if they didn’t find her in Paris at all? “And I did carry a little money with me.” India wasn’t used to asking anyone for anything, but pride did need to be set aside on occasion. “I would hate for him to know how foolish I was.” Strange, how important it seemed. Whatever else Derek might think of her, she would hate for him to think she was stupid.
“I can certainly understand that.” Estelle nodded. “Very well then, this shall be our secret.”
“Once again, you have my gratitude.” India released a relieved breath. “You’re being very kind, and I’ve done nothing to merit it.”
“Nonsense. I have no doubt you’d do the very same thing for me if our positions were reversed.”
India wasn’t entirely sure of that, but it was rather nice that Estelle thought so.
“I am also hoping that you and I can be friends.”
Friends? It had occurred to India the other day when Derek had mentioned something about her friends that, aside from Heloise and Martin, she had none. She’d never given it a second thought, and it had certainly never bothered her before. Odd that it did so now.
She smiled. “I would like that.”
“Good. Then as your friend, I must be honest and admit that providing you with a few garments is a benefit to me, as well. It gives me the opportunity to buy a few things here for myself.” Estelle grinned in what could only be called a wicked manner. “And I have always wanted a gown made in Paris.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I HAVE GIVEN this situation a great deal of thought,” Professor Greer said in a ponderous tone, as if he was about to make an announcement of importance or impart some gem of academic wisdom. For a moment, it was as though Derek had returned to the classroom.
“Which situation would that be, Professor?” Derek checked his pocket watch, then glanced once again at the parlor door. India had sent one of the maids to tell him she would meet him at this hour to continue their Grand Hotel search. She was late, which didn’t bother him at all really. Anything that extended their stay in Paris—even by as little as half an hour—was a benefit.
“Miss Prendergast’s lost luggage for one thing.”
“Nothing can be done about that, I’m afraid.” Derek shrugged in a helpless manner. “The best we can do is hope it makes its way to Paris. I gave the clerk at the station our address here and Miss Prendergast’s name, as well as pointed out she is the guest of the Marquess of Brookings. I further stated his lordship would be most grateful if Miss Prendergast’s trunk was recovered.”
“I daresay there isn’t more you can do than that.” The professor nodded thoughtfully. “Until then, however, Estelle and I would like to offer our services in the Paris search for Lady Heloise. Miss Prendergast was obviously quite distressed at learning her trunk had gone astray, so it occurred to me the sooner we find her cousin, the sooner we can leave Paris.”
“That occurred to you, did it?”
“It did.” He nodded. “There is nothing that upsets a lady more than knowing she has nothing to wear.”
Derek chuckled. “Miss Prendergast is not your usual female.”
“Yes, I have noticed that, as well. Still you cannot deny her dismay about the loss of her things.”
“She did seem quite distraught.” Indeed, she was far more upset than Derek would have expected. Although perhaps she was simply tired of her gray dress. Derek certainly was.
“I realize we are here only in the capacity of chaperone, but we would like to help.” The professor paused. “Do you and Miss Prendergast still suspect Lady Heloise may be staying in one of the numerous Grand Hotels in the city?”
“We do.”
“It will take a great deal of time to inquire at all of them, won’t it?”
“Well, we do want to be thorough and ask all the appropriate questions.”
The professor nodded.
“We’ve already visited the first seven on the list. There are only twenty or so left.”
“It will proceed much more quickly if my wife and I assist you. We can make inquires at half of those remaining. Divide and conquer, you know.”<
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“That’s most generous of you.” The last thing Derek wanted was to shorten their stay in Paris by speeding up the search. “But we couldn’t possibly accept your help.”
The professor frowned. “Why on earth not? The very reason you’re in Paris in the first place is to search for Lady Heloise.”
“Of course, but...” Why on earth indeed? Derek struggled for a plausible reason. “Miss Prendergast and I have it well in hand.”
“It seems to be going rather slowly to me.”
“On the contrary, we are progressing steadily, leaving no stone unturned and all.” And yet no plausible reason came to mind.
“I daresay—”
“However, while I am confident we can make inquiries at the Grand Hotels without assistance,” Derek said slowly, “there is something you can do.”
The professor smiled knowingly. “I thought there might be.”
“Lady Heloise had long wanted to visit Paris, and she intended to see everything there was to see here.”
“Quite right,” the professor said. “My wife expresses the same sentiment. I, of course, have seen it all before, but I, too, would like to reacquaint myself with the sights of the city.”
“Then we shall kill two birds with one stone, as they say.” Derek nodded. “You and Mrs. Greer can continue your own tour of Paris, and, in the process, inquire at the various monuments and museums if anyone has seen a woman matching Lady Heloise’s description. You have seen her photograph, haven’t you?”
“Miss Prendergast showed it to us on the train.”
“Excellent.” Derek beamed. “That will be a great help.”
“It seems rather inefficient to me,” the professor said.
“It is. But then we are looking for an older lady whose plans were not the least bit efficient or organized.”
“You do have a point.”
“I can think of no other way to go about this. She only sent two letters from Paris. In one, she wrote about a driving tour she took of the city, and in the other, she wrote in great detail about a daylong visit to the Louvre.”
The Lady Travelers Guide to Scoundrels and Other Gentlemen Page 14
